


Handcuffs and Hand Grenades

by that_which_yields



Series: Smut Central [4]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Handcuffs, M/M, Military Uniforms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Preventers, Unrepentant Man Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_which_yields/pseuds/that_which_yields
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the GW Prompts Series: Heero and Duo end up handcuffed to a cell wall after an attempt to blow up a building. 1x2, one-shot, gratuitous smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handcuffs and Hand Grenades

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miss_Murdered](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Murdered/gifts).



> This is what happens when I ask for prompts on tumblr. 1x2, implied/former 1xR, one-shot. For Miss_murdered. <3

 

“Remind me again how the fuck I ended up here with _you_ of all people?” Duo snarls, yanking futilely at the steel around his wrists.

Heero glances over, expression absolutely uninterested. He shrugs as best he can with his arms chained above his head, leaning back against the cement wall. Duo glares at him, face twisted with fury, and jerks at his hands again. The skin beneath the cuffs is already rubbed raw, beginning to blister and bleed with each frustrated tug.

“We tried to blow up the building. Together,” Heero reminds him calmly.

“Yeah but they coulda put you in a different fucking cell or something,” Duo mutters petulantly.

He turns his head away, unable to face the searing pain of Heero’s proximity. It was their first mission as partners after their severe falling-out. It took six months for Duo to be stable enough to handle being near Heero, if by being near you mean that he ducked into the nearest bathroom anytime it looked like he might have to spend more than 30 seconds alone with him.

So this, being chained to a wall next to Heero, close enough to smell the gunpowder and metal scent of his skin, close enough to feel the heat from his skin, was fucking torture. His body didn’t care that they Heero hadn’t touched him in eight months, that the last two months of their relationship had been a warzone. It had only been eight months, and his skin still remembered how Heero’s hands felt, slipping over his body like worship.

Heero twists his body until he is facing Duo, cheek pressing into the wall. They’re near enough that Duo can feel his ex-lover’s breath on his face, feel the exhale shifting the hairs escaping from his braid.

“Why is it so hard for you do be near me?” Heero asks, curiosity lightening his voice.

Duo swallows down a thousand acidic responses, resisting the urge to spit the suppressed venom of six lonely months at Heero. It wasn’t just that Heero had broken up with him, had left without a decent reason, had refused to speak with him, had dared to let their last words be “it will be best for both of us.” It was that he had chosen her. After all the battles that lay between them, after the hundreds of soothed nightmares, after every PSTD riddled episode that Duo rode out… he had chosen her. Despite their history, or maybe because of it, he chose her, walked away, and never looked back.

“You left me,” Duo manages to whisper, memories clogging his throat.

Surprise colors Heero’s face, as if that were the last answer he was expecting. “That was six months ago, Duo.”

“Six months ago I found you sucking face with Relena in a goddamn broom closet! Forgive me if I’m not over that yet,” Duo spits. “Fuck!”

He lifts himself by his wrists, tearing open the blisters, and levers himself as far away from Heero as the chains will allow. Tears prick at his eyes and he stares at the ceiling, determined not to let Heero see him cry. He’d cried plenty, over the last eight months. Cried so much and so often that he damn near hated how weak he was – how weak Heero made him. He was so goddamn tired of crying.

“Maybe if you’d been more open to my sexual needs – ” Heero begins, defensiveness prickling his tone.

Duo cuts him off with a bitter laugh, choking down the hollowness in his chest. “We fucked, every single day, for a year and a half. I snuck into hotels when you were away on undercover missions just so you could get laid. And if you’d fucking bothered to say, ‘hey honey, let’s have a threesome with the princess,’ maybe I would have fucking considered it. If you don’t ask for something, don’t goddamn blame me for not giving it to you.”

Heero is silent for a moment, staring at Duo’s averted face, at the fists clenched above his head. His ragged braid trails down his chest, stray hairs sticking to the blood matting his uniform shirt. Duo shivers steadily, the chill of the cell leaching warmth from his skin, the cold fury settling into his bones. The weight of Heero’s eyes is heavy and uncomfortable, but he refuses to dignify the Asian man’s attention with a response.

“I just wanted to see what it was like,” Heero says, quiet and ashamed. “I just wanted to see if it was different… with a woman, with someone who wasn’t a soldier.”

Duo bites at his bottom lip, wondering if he even wants to know the answer to the question he’s about to ask. Fuck it. “Was it?”

“…yes. She was soft and gentle and terribly sweet. Satin sheets and flowery perfume and candlelight.”

Duo hears the hesitation in his voice, the absence of all that he isn’t saying. “But…?”

“But she was always above me. Could be mother naked and still be wearing the crown of her title. I never wanted to exchange a soldier for the queen of the world.”

Duo grits his teeth as a wave of envy sweeps him. “So a soldier is better than the princess, and I just happen to be filling the spot?”

“No. Duo, I’m not … I can’t find the words. She isn’t you. I have to close my eyes when I kiss her, not because it is a romantic gesture, but because she isn’t you. She doesn’t sound like you, she doesn’t taste like you, and yes, I’ll use your crude language, she doesn’t fuck like you. I _miss_ you, Duo. I miss the way you let me wrap your braid around my hand, when you won’t even let anyone else touch it. I miss the little noises you make when you want more, the way you arch your back to let me closer. I miss how you can find my lips in the dark like a magnet, like you can always see me, even when you can’t see anything else. I miss that the first words out of your mouth after you come are always ‘I love you.’ I’m sorry for how I treated you, Duo. I just couldn’t watch you fall apart, knowing that I was the one to destroy you.”

Duo clamps down on a whimper of pain, all the agony of the past six months swamping him. Every time he starts to get better, every time the memories begin to recede, Heero sweeps back into his life like the villain in a fairytale and reminds him. A sigh stutters out of him, breath escaping his lungs like a leaky balloon.

“No,” he whispers, almost inaudibly. He locks eyes with Heero, violet clashing violently with sapphire. “No, Heero. You can’t decide that I’m worth your time just because someone else wasn’t.”

“Duo, please,” Heero pleads, his eyes damp with emotion.

Duo’s head drops to his chest, breaking the tension of their vision. He lets his eyes slide closed, weariness seeping into his marrow. “I can’t, Heero. I just can’t.”

He hears the creak of metal, the alarming screech of chain pushed past its limits. And Heero’s breath, loud in the oppressive stillness of the room, pushing between them to lap against his ear. He shivers, despite himself, longing for the heat of his lover’s touch. Even now, after so long. Even as his heart is shattering all over again. He drags his eyes open, a single tear winding its way down his cheek, and finds Heero inches from his face.

“Heero?”

Heero lifts his hands, bracing them against the wall on either side of Duo’s head. Ragged lengths of chain dangle from his wrists, skittering against the wall. Rivulets of blood streak from his battered wrists, matching the ribbons from Duo’s manacle-shredded arms.

“Please,” Heero whispers, words mouthed onto Duo’s cheek.

He closes the gap between them, matches his lips to Duo’s. His lips move slowly, so slowly, with a tenderness that Duo has never experienced before. Heero exhales a soft ‘please’ into Duo’s mouth, his tongue slipping out to flicker along the seam of the braided man’s lips. Duo surrenders with a tortured moan, giving access to the gentlest kiss he’s ever received. Heero’s hands cup his face as if he is the world’s rarest treasure, fingers barely brushing his cheeks, chain falling heavy and solid on his shoulders.

Heero drags himself away, reluctantly, hands fumbling at the belt of Duo’s uniform. His regulation Preventers slacks are torn from, one knee gaping open to reveal bruises blossoming on his thighs. The belt is sticky with blood from the abrasions on his torso, buckle releasing only after a sharp yank. Duo tugs at his handcuffs, impatient.

“Let me go, Heero.”

Heero shakes his head, reaching into Duo’s pants to cup his hardening cock. Breath hisses out through Duo’s teeth and his head drops back against the wall, a flush of arousal rising on his cheeks.

“If you want me to stop, I will. I promise. But I want this to be about you, about your pleasure. And…” he wraps his fingers around Duo’s shaft, beginning a teasingly slow rhythm. Duo’s chest hitches. “I think you like me being in control.”

Duo fingers scrabble at the wall for purchase, clenching and opening as waves of heat roll over him. His pulse races as Heero’s clever hands work over him, intensified by his virtual helplessness. His lover, his perfect match, the man who can bend steel, leaving him utterly captivated by metal and ecstasy. Somehow, the inability to touch Heero heightens each sensation, leaving him craving the hardness of the Asian man’s body against his own.

“Please,” he sobs, synapses overwhelmed by the sheer rapture flooding his system.

“I want to hear you beg for it,” Heero rasps in his ear, a delicious darkness in his tone.

He squirms beneath Heero’s touch, working his hips until his pants slide down enough for his cock to slip out into the open air of the cell. Heero sits back on his heels, one hand resting on the wall above Duo’s head, the other gripping Duo’s dick just hard enough to tease. His midnight blue eyes focus on Duo’s face, intent on every moan, every twist of pleasure across that heart-shaped face.

“Please, Heero… need you. I think I’ll die if you don’t fuck me, Jesus Christ it’s been eight months don’t make me wait any longer, fuck, Heero, please!”

Heero captures Duo’s lips, swallowing the last of his pleas, the kiss rough as his control shreds. He nips at Duo’s lower lip, sucking his tongue into his mouth and trapping it until Duo whimpers with frustration. And then he is standing, rising deftly to his feet, pausing briefly to palm the bulge in his pants before he swiftly undoes his belt. The button of his uniform slacks pops open, and he slides them down his thighs, black fabric bunching around his ankles. Duo’s eyes are fixated hungrily on each inch of skin, watching the descent of his pants and boxers. That purple gaze flicks up to Heero’s face as he licks his lips uncertainly.

“Leave the boots on… please?”

Heero chuckles softly, managing to divest himself of the bottom half of his uniform, leaving the black leather boots laced tightly around his ankles. He unbuttons the blood-stiffened fabric of his shirt but leaves it on, hanging from his shoulders and gaping to reveal sweat-slicked muscles. He kneels down again, straddling Duo’s legs, and lovingly caresses Duo’s cock.

“I didn’t come prepared for this… it’s going to be rough,” Heero murmurs, a line of concern furrowing his face.

“Some boy scout you are,” Duo mutters. He leans forward as far as the chains will allow and kisses Heero deeply, tongue flickering out to lap at Heero’s lip. “Don’t care. Been too fucking long, can’t wait for lube. Please, Heero.”

A startled cry rips from his throat as Heero places both hands on his shoulders, chain draping cold and noisy across his torso, and slowly lowers himself over Duo’s waiting cock. Heero never bottomed, not once in their entire eighteen month relationship. And Duo was fine with that, really, didn’t mind playing submissive to his fuck-machine of a control freak boyfriend. But fuck, he’d forgotten what it felt like to have that searing warmth envelop him, to have his dick engulfed in someone’s body like an almost-too-tight glove around his hand.

“Fuck,” he stutters, breath coming in pants as Heero settles to the hilt.

Heero bows his head, resting his forehead against Duo’s until they are nose to nose. Their breath mingles between them, Heero’s eyes hazy with lust, a faint flush of arousal rising on his cheeks.

“That feels… so fucking good,” Heero gasps, his hips twitching involuntarily.

His thigh muscles bunch as he rises up, sliding nearly to the crown of Duo’s dick before he lets gravity draw his ass back to Duo’s hips. Sweat plasters his hair to his brow, chocolate locks falling across his eyes in spikes. Duo’s mouth is open in a wordless ‘o’ of pleasure, his body overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensation. Heero’s hand drops to his cock, matches the rhythm of his shifting hips. Their moans mingle in the tiny cell, the discordant clang of chains accompanying each thrust.

“Shit, ‘Ro… could come just watching you… look so fucking hot. Goddamn, don’t even care if we die. Fucking… shit, so good…”

“Duo,” Heero pants, losing the smoothness of his movements. “Gotta come for me, baby. Can’t hold on much longer.”

Duo catches his tempo, slamming his hips up in counterpoint, taking over as Heero falters in the grip of climax. They come within seconds of each other, Duo screaming Heero’s name to the concrete ceiling as he empties himself, feeling more complete than he has in months. Heero joins him with a hoarse cry, his seed splashing between them, coating his chest and the front of Duo’s wrinkled button-down shirt. He lays his head down on Duo’s shoulder, chest heaving, lungs laboring with his inhalation.

“Love you,” Heero murmurs, limp against Duo’s chest.

“Stole my line,” Duo whispers, a smile crossing his bruised face. He winces as his wounds begin to stiffen, as his blood cools and sweat chills on his skin. Heero rubs at his shoulders as he shivers slightly, pulling his Preventers jacket from the corner to wrap it around Duo’s shoulders.

“Totally… fucking… worth it,” Duo rasps. “Don’t ever fucking leave me again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, babe.” He snaps Duo’s handcuffs, pulling them both to their feet. He eyes his own wrists, then carefully wraps the chains around his wrists and tucks them out of the way. “Let’s go home. I think these might come in handy again soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm all out of prompts! If you want this series to continue, PM me a prompt or find me at that-which-yields on tumblr. Pleeeaaaaasssseeee?


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